


Needs

by Val_Creative



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi, Multiple Partners, Polyamory, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-31
Updated: 2015-08-31
Packaged: 2018-04-18 09:36:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4701122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Val_Creative/pseuds/Val_Creative
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Merlin/Knights- Boners, just boners. Can you just picture the Knights getting with Merlin individually for a random hook ups and Merlin's okay with it cause he's comfortable with his sexual tendencies?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Needs

**Author's Note:**

> Requested from Anon.
> 
> DEANONING FOR MERLICFICDRIVETHRU AS FIC'S AUTHOR!

*

Lancelot can see each little tragedy, every part of Merlin he tries to conceal.

He visits him while Gaius is out, either healing or attending to court duties, unbuckling his knight’s cape and lying with Merlin on the musty old cot. 

They speak in low voices, wandering eyes and hands, touching with reverence. Rustling clothing and taking apart belts, shifting themselves comfortably.

Lancelot feels the tingling brush of Merlin’s magic to his arms, and whispers that  _it’s alright, Merlin – you are safe with me_  until caution falls away. He holds onto Merlin, breathing and moaning with him, noses grazing as mouths kiss. 

They fuck in silence, ratty blankets thrown aside, the cot’s frame creaking. 

*

“ _Aah!_ ”

Gwaine’s head shoots up, his vision blurring through the veil of smoke. Merlin sits on a log, his face blotchy and red, eyes widening on his own hands. 

Another knight hovers nearby, reaching out for his shoulder and Merlin flinches away as if struck. Gwaine’s fury  _boils_  over. He gets up from where he is, rushing over and almost pitching the other confused knight off his feet.

“What did you do?” he growls. “Merlin, what is it? What’s happened?”

“I-I grabbed the boiling pot,” Merlin says, embarrassed. Painful tears now streaming down his dirt-grimed cheeks. “It was an  _ah_ -ccident.”

Gwaine sends the retreating knight one more look before sitting down with Merlin, snatching both of his wrists. “Let me see, s’alight,” he says, more gently. Merlin’s palms are beginning to redden fast.

“That was  _stuh_ -stupid of me,” Merlin confesses, trembling. “I need to get them in water before they blister, Gwaine.” 

“Come on.”

They walk towards the brook just past the camp, and Merlin dips his hands into the cool water, flinching and making strangled chuckles as he does. It’s for Gwaine’s sake, and the knight rubs the length of Merlin’s back soothingly. 

“I guess we’re not having it off,” Merlin says, the corner of his mouth lifting.

“Mm, you won’t need your hands for that later.” Gwaine emphasizes his point by cupping a hand over Merlin’s breeches, rubbing down until he feels him harden and Merlin’s hips pump. “It’s my turn to take of  _you_  for a change.”

*

Usually, dungeons are more well-kept. Less dank, more sunlight.

“Think Arthur knows where he are?” Merlin speaks up.

Elyan shrugs, patting down his jerkin.  _Fuck_ , they even took his knives. “He won’t give up until we’re found, dead or alive,” he comments, humorlessly.

Merlin looks skyward, muttering, “ _Great_.”

The mercenaries abandoned them in this cell hours ago, likely setting their traps for Camelot’s knights in the outside surrounding area.

“There must be some way to pass the time…”

“I could bugger you,” Merlin suggests, all friendly smiles. Elyan snorts, gut jerking abruptly but also smiling. _Hmm._ Merlin’s certainly the cheeky one.

“You ever buggered anyone before, Merlin?” he asks.

“Loads of time. Ask Gwaine.”

“I take it you’re not joking.”

Merlin shakes his head, smile unrelenting. His two front teeth are adorably long and bucked. The heel of Elyan’s boot scoffs the filth on the dungeon’s floor.

“I supposed I don’t see the harm in it,” Elyan says, after a couple moments.

They’re halfway out of their garments, Merlin’s boots tossed aside, Elyan’s muddy tunic inside-out, before Arthur bursts in with two knights.

*

Everyone knows a local tavern is where you can seek some  _company_.

Percival admits he is not familiar with the settlement in Bayard’s kingdom, but he’s not particular to where he goes as long it is  _nowhere_  near Cenred.

The alcohol is piss-warm and stale, but the faces around him are cheerful enough. A young lad perhaps twenty or so name-days eyes him across the room. He’s thin-faced and with hair dark like charcoal. A smile that is radiant.

“ _Merlin_ ,” murmurs through dry lips tracing against Percival’s collarbone. Merlin, who is a complete stranger. Merlin, pressing slow, laughing kisses down his body, pressing himself naked up against Percival’s throbbing cock.

*

Garlands decorate the ceilings of the Great Hall, and flowers strung around the dancer’s necks. Leon has no such desire to make a fool of himself.

He witnesses a group of servants in the corner of his eye, jigging and twirling around each other. Merlin spins Gwen on her heels, looking positively overjoyed. Freshly clipped, colorful wildflowers dangling around his throat.

Merlin isn’t a  _bad_  dancer, if not slightly off-rhythm to the rest of them. That certainly describes Merlin well, Leon considers with some amusement. 

Percival comes up behind him and urges him forward, as some of the noble ladies open their hands to each other. But, suddenly, he’s tugging on Merlin’s outstretched arm in the crowd and ducking away, ignored.

A doorless empty room. Leon guides them inside, as Merlin leans back against the stone-wall and giggles, smelling like cider and spice and the wildflowers.

“Something I can  _help_  you with?” he whispers, those blue eyes on him.

“There is,” Leon replies, with just as much mischievous nature, running his hands down Merlin’s sides, clutching on. The other man hums, pleased.

Merlin drops his hands to Leon’s trousers, fingers clumsy. “I’m very good at helping,” he breathes, going on his knees, pulling out Leon’s semi-erect cock. 

Wasting no time, Merlin licks around the moist tip, flattening his tongue, then curling. He engulfs his mouth down the base, groaning when Leon thrusts roughly. It’s  _divine_. Leon’s hands fall against the stone-wall for support.

_How many men has Merlin been with?_

How many cocks have filled the lining of his mouth, slickened Merlin’s throat with their seed until his mind and his belly  _craved_  the taste?

Leon finds his doesn’t  _care_ , and neither should anyone else, as he thrusts repeatedly and spills himself, feeling his cock quiver against Merlin’s lips.

*


End file.
